


Portrait Of A Delinquent

by Sunshinecackle



Series: Nail It To The Cross [2]
Category: South Park
Genre: Abuse, Cruelty, Gay, Introspection, Knives, M/M, Pete’s POV, Slash, Sociopathy, Torture, Vague Gore Mention, Various Ages Mentioned, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-04 03:05:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14583579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunshinecackle/pseuds/Sunshinecackle
Summary: We always try to see the good in those that we care about, but it doesn’t always go the way we think it should.





	Portrait Of A Delinquent

**Author's Note:**

> So, I’ve been desperate to write, but also suffering from a lot of crap happening. We’ve both been sick, and depression, and our AC is out and nobody will come fix it, we’ve had money issues and just… Everything keeps happening. But I’m trying to get some things out, even if they are small. I hope you guys enjoy!

I always knew there was something about Michael that wasn’t right. We started being friends in Kindergarten, when we met on the playground because we didn’t want to do anything with the other kids. I had been on the swings, and he had joined me. He was already freakishly tall for his age, but that never stopped us from being friends. After that first day on the swings, we became inseparable for a long time. 

Henrietta joined us in first grade, when Michael’s parents went through their incredibly messy divorce. It was around that time that he began to put up this front of being pococurante. The whole goth phase didn’t start until we were in second grade, when we finally all gave up. Henrietta’s parents were the worst, Michael’s new stepmom was straight out of some military horror story, and my mom was sick a lot that year. It was easy to hate everything because everything seemed to be going to shit.

By fifth grade, when we met Firkle, Michael had gone from indifferent and careless to straight on cold and calculated. He was like a cult leader, and we all followed his word like it was law. Firkle took to his words in a way I never would have expected, ready to fight and die for anything Michael had to say. He was violent, and cruel, almost heartless, and Michael took advantage of that. When he wasn’t scared of him, that was.

But, even still, Michael was a monster just the same. He didn’t care for anyone, he would hurt whoever he felt like. Even his friends were stepping stones to his goals. The fact that his mind and heart were so focused on not loving only made him hardened and cruel. Even _I_ felt bad for Mike Makowski after a while. Firkle and Michael’s cruelty to the guy, simply on the grounds of style, was more than I could handle. Even Henrietta thought they were pushing it. Mike didn’t deserve half of what they put him through.

Firkle was a natural-born follower. He wanted to be the most hardcore in order to impress Michael, and everything he did only escalated as we grew. His own special brand of insanity only helped him along, coming up with more and more elaborate ways to hurt others. Any favorites usually involved knives of some kind. Even Larry had taken a throwing knife to the thigh once, simply for walking to the library with Ryan and looking at him.

Even the cops were afraid of him, and with Michael’s help, he was unstoppable. Michael encouraged the worst in Firkle, and Firkle only bred more hatred and determination to care less for other humans in Michael in return. Negligence turned to homicide, and before we knew it, Firkle was sent off to juvenile detention. Michael had some kind of breakdown without his little boot licker around to keep his ego inflated, and managed to land himself in prison for vehicular manslaughter. 

When I look back on it, I feel I missed several signs. Perhaps I should have seen it coming. Being his boyfriend for as long as I was, regardless of his side relationship with Firkle, perhaps I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want to believe it. We always try to see the good in those that we care about, but it doesn’t always go the way we think it should.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my gosh. I finally have something written. It’s so hard this year, for some reason, to actually write. I’m just glad I can get out these little things, even if they’re short and sweet. Well, maybe not sweet, but you know. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Prompt: **Pococurante** \- _A careless or indifferent person.; Caring little; indifferent; nonchalant._


End file.
